Humanizing Influence
by love-ends-with-hope
Summary: Brennan works on her second novel, which leads to her thinking about a certain FBI agent who she definitely did not base a character on, and a relationship that has absolutely nothing to do with the one in her books.


** Humanizing Influence**

**AN:** Some of you my recognize the title as a line of dialogue from one of the early episodes of Angel. That is completely irrelevant to the plot, but I needed a title (I wanted to use part of the last line of the story- but it was to long) and that's what immediately came to mind. And if you didn't recognize the title- well, then, you just learned something new, and I am all for educated readers.

* * *

Dr Temperence Brennan sat at her computer, dutifully working on her next novel during her lunch break. She sat, typing away on the keyboard, backspacing often as writers are wont to do. She could not get this chapter right, she simply couldn't. She resented her editor for her firm suggestion that this book have a more "humanized" feel to it than that last one had. Despite its success, in the scientific community and beyond, many readers felt the book was "cold and distant"- which was precisely what that D.A had called her that day in court. This book needed to be more human. All right, so how did one go about doing that, exactly? She typed a sentence, and promptly deleted it. Her book had a solid case, full of twists and turns, with a fascinating conclusion, but she couldn't get there because she was stuck here, on "humanizing" it. _If people wanted romantic drivel, they wouldn't pick up a book about an anthropologist_, Brennan thought, rubbing a hand over her face. _Wait, she didn't say romantic. She said human. Not the same thing at all._

Human, not romance. That she could handle. She typed a new paragraph, this time only deleting a sentence or two from it. She smiled, _progress_. She wrote steadily for almost an hour, and completed the chapter. One rife with meaningful glances, and deep, personal introspection. One that decidedly did not fit the tone of her book. One that she knew she couldn't have written if it weren't for Booth. _Maybe I dedicated the wrong book to him_, she thought with some amusement. Brennan scrolled back up, and read the chapter through; really read it, not as its author, but as someone invested in the characters. She was surprised at what she found- she had meant to write a chapter that examined the characters, made them real to each other, and to the readers. Instead, she had an entire chapter devoted to the precise nature of the relationship between Kathy and Agent Lister. And, somehow, even at the end of the chapter, they still weren't able to pin down their exact relationship. A careful reading of her first book would have found the beginnings of something that could have, one day, have potentially led to something that may be classified "romantic." And now? Well, now it looked like they were moving in that direction, and did she ever not want to have to write that. Despite her protests, there was no denying that Andy was based (_loosely based_, her mind added) on Booth. In her defense, how many FBI homicide investigators did she know? If her cases were going to be so factually accurate, why wouldn't she want the same accuracy for one of her lead characters? She understood the workings of a forensic anthropologist, but the closest understanding she had of an FBI agent was what she knew of Booth.

As she reread the chapter one more time in preparation for shutting it down for the afternoon, and her eye caught on one of the final scenes of the chapter.

_ Andy entered the lab, interrupting the examination process as only he could. "Lister, unless you have anything new on this case, I don't want to hear it," Kathy preempted whatever he was going to say.  
"Kathy, I have to talk to you. Your office?" his voice was quiet in a way she didn't hear often. Something was up, something bad.  
She nodded and followed him into her office, for once making no comment. They entered her office, and closed the door, but remained standing. She waited for him to speak. "I've got a case that we could really use your help on, but I can't decide how involved I want you to be," he told her.  
"Why not"  
"It's dangerous, Kathy, and you've had more close calls than I like to think about"  
"How about you tell me about the case, tell me why I shouldn't go, and then I'll grab my stuff and we go? It's what we always do, why mess with it now?" She had started pulling off her lab coat before his voice stopped her.  
"This one's different"  
"How"  
"It's more dangerous than you're used to"  
"So, why did you tell me about it"  
"So that when the remains come in, you don't yell at me for not telling you about it. I've told you about it, and you have yet to convince me that you should be allowed to come along. So, I guess I'll see you when the remains make it to the lab." He had made to open the door, but she wouldn't let him.  
"Allow? You have to allow me to come along? Since when?" There was a cold indignation in her voice that warned him she could be very volatile if she so chose.  
"I am your partner, I carry the badge, and it is my job to protect you in the field, and I don't believe I can do an adequate job of that in this particular case. I gave you the opportunity to convince me. You didn't"  
"I can protect myself"  
"Every time I take you to the firing range you miss the target," he reminded her.  
"I hit one last week," she said smugly.  
"That was someone else's target." Lister couldn't suppress the grin that spread across his face at the memory of her shooting a target she wasn't aiming for, right through the heart.  
"Please, let me come," she asked, switching tactics immediately. "Kathy, I don't want anything to happen to you"  
"Why not"  
"What do you mean, why not? You're a genius, completely indispensable to the FBI, and it is my duty to see that you are protected at all times"  
"Your duty to the FBI?" The volatile temper that Lister had recognized earlier was making its way to the surface- and quickly.  
"You're my partner, Kathy. I don't want you getting hurt," he said, in an attempt to placate her, before deciding to dig his own grave. "I'm pulling rank on you and saying no"  
"You're pulling rank? How can you pull rank when I don't even have a rank"  
"I just did"  
"But you're going to the scene?" she asked, changing gears entirely, throwing him off balance for a moment.  
"Yeah, I'm going"  
"So you can risk your life, leaving me here to worry about you, when I'm not allowed"  
"You really gonna worry about me, Kathy?" he asked her.  
"You're my partner, Lister, I worry about you every time you go out there," Kathy spoke somewhere in the direction of the carpet, her voice small and soft, almost inaudible to one Agent Lister.  
Lister reached out a hand, and gently lifted Kathy's chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes.  
They were both uncharacteristically silent for a moment, staring at one another, not sure what to say. Lister gave a small nod and said, "Fine, you can come. But you stay behind me until it's safe- and I mean it this time"  
Kathy grinned up at him and turned around to pick her field kit up off the floor behind her desk, draping her lab coat on the chair as she passed it.  
"One thing," Lister told her. "Don't even think of pulling your gun out if I'm anywhere near you, on second thought, don't pull it out unless I ask you to. Can you do that for me"  
"Anything for you, Lister," she responded, a half-teasing, half-affectionate smile on her face._

She finished reading, her eyes wide, her heart beating a little faster than normal. _They're in love,_ she realized, _Kathy and Lister are in love with each other. When did that happen?_ was quickly followed by, _Does that mean I'm in love with Booth? Is he in love with me? Did I somehow unconsciously know that and it manifested itself in the form of my novel?_  
Brennan's mind was working faster than normal, even for her. Her head was spinning as she searched through the many memories she had of her and Booth, their conversations and their arguments, his over-protection and her jealousy, and interwoven through it all, their deep care and affection for one another. She sorted through her memories, categorized them, analyzed them, and then tried to rationalize them. But she couldn't. She kept coming back to the same conclusion over and over again.

Her thoughts was interrupted by a knock on the door.  
"Come in," she called.  
"Am I disturbing you, Bones?" asked Booth as he appeared.  
"Not at all , Booth," she answered, glancing back at her document. "Actually, there's something I think I want to tell you."

(Fade to Black)

You know what comes next. The declarations of mutual love, the smoochies, the happily ever after. I didn't write it because I wouldn't be able to do it justice, I just thought that this was one of the ways she could possibly realize her feelings for Booth- and you know it's going to have to be her to approach the subject first. Hoped you enjoyed it.


End file.
